


Rebirth

by orphan_account



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've been a fool...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> Written in Winter 2007.
> 
> I wrote this to cheer up a friend, so expect more fluff than strictly necessary...

Kieron had been called out to give the last rites at the hospice and John Paul had breathed a sigh of relief.

He didn’t know what was going on in his head, but he had to call a halt before he completely lost it!  How had he done that – gone to the village in just his coat, bought beer wearing only his boxers? Okay he’d been dared and he didn’t like backing down but he liked to think that a real friend would have ensured that it never got that far.  

He couldn’t imagine Craig, Hannah or even Sarah being okay with that.  If Craig had even suggested it the girls would have given him what for.  Sighing, he turned his face to the far wall.  How had he managed to turn into such a loser?  Well that was obvious.  He’d known that Craig was his world, he just hadn’t really understood what that meant until now.  And no, maybe it wasn’t good to allow your entire existence to revolve around the one person, but wasn’t that what love in essence really boiled down to – that one special person?  Craig was that for him – always would be.  Life without him was drab and grey: getting up every morning cos you had to, going through the motions, falling asleep each night hoping that tomorrow would bring a miracle and have him back in your life or the even bigger miracle where you’d eventually forget him.  

He and Craig should have been on the stage, he mused, wishing he could find even the slightest vestige of humour in this assessment. They were both consummate actors.  Craig had fooled people for months and now it was his turn.  Clearly even his nosy sisters had no clue what was going on inside him.  Craig wasn’t even seen as a spot on their horizon – he’d gone, John Paul had come to his senses – end of.  Sometimes when the pain got really bad and he’d find himself crying, careful to keep his sobs muffled so the sleeping girls wouldn’t hear, he wished with all his heart that he could forget him too – that the story really had come to an end.  But it couldn’t hurt this bad after all these months and really be over.  Oh he tried to pretend, tried to fool his heart into falling for another man, but each and every time his treacherous heart had him choose a man who reminded him of Craig, but who was wrong in every other way.  His heart was clearly desperately trying to tell him something and maybe it was time to listen.

**

  
He had to get away from Kieron.  The guy had been giving him secret looks all through breakfast.  Surely his mum or any of his sharp sisters would eventually clock it.  The thing is Kieron was a nice enough bloke – attractive, nice personality, but 1 he was a priest, 2 he was a priest and 3 oh yeah he wasn’t Craig!  When he compared any of the blokes he’d met with Craig his internal critic would get really loud and really sarky: yeah keep stringing him along – very noble.  Did you notice how watery his eyes are?  And his hands, look at those meathooks.  Yes, keep going, mate.  We have a lifetime to reject bloke after bloke after...

No, Craig was his yardstick and to say that no-one came close to measuring up would be the grossest understatement.

The thing is, he just didn’t know what to do, he certainly didn’t know who to talk to about this.  Tina had problems of her own, as did Jacqui, who’d be sympathetic enough but would probably say some daft Jacq-like thing like 'go for it, babe!'  He couldn’t go for it – ‘going for it’ just wasn’t on the cards.  For a start he didn’t know how Craig felt about him.  He hadn’t received another text from him and since he hadn’t ever been in a place where he felt able to put anything he was feeling in a text he hadn’t texted him back, which meant that Craig probably thought he wasn’t interested.  It had been two months since that text – not too late to reply really...  Oh god he just didn’t know.  Why couldn’t Kieron have been there for him to talk to?  He couldn’t now, not now they’d got so... familiar.  Why had he allowed that momentary frisson of frustrated lust to lead him down this road? Not that he was entirely to blame for the situation: Kieron, if he was being brutally honest, was the adult in the situation, not only that but he was in a position of trust – not with the Church, forget the Church! – no, with his mother.  She trusted him with her life – she’d be gutted on realising that he couldn’t be trusted with her son.  The worse thing though was that she’d probably blame John Paul for it.  She probably didn’t even understand the concept of a gay priest – and reall,y who could blame her?  

And he honestly really didn’t get Kieron – why had he joined the priesthood in the first place?  He’d said he wasn’t running away (but now John Paul wasn’t so sure); been impressively adamant about taking his vows seriously, yet he hadn’t even tried to resist the temptation John Paul had innocently (well maybe not entirely innocently) presented.  If he could forget his vows so easily what did being a priest really mean to him?

Well that was between Father Kieron and his conscience – he was well out of it.  And maybe he needed to be upfront with the guy – again.  At least that was the one good thing about Kieron; you really could be honest with him.  So if John Paul simply made it clear he wasn’t interested and why he wasn’t – Craig – yeah that would work.

He didn’t question the lighter mood this decision gave rise to, certainly didn’t question the fact that it was the thought of talking about Craig that had his heart singing right now.  You were supposed to unburden yourself to your priest, weren’t you, so why not, especially since he had a captive one sleeping in his bed!

He grinned to himself.

“John Paul.  John Paul!”

 He turned at the sound of footsteps and breathlessness.  “Hannah, hi!”

“Oh you! You were in a world of your own.”

“Sorry about that.  Can I take your books?”

She grinned.  “Oh careful, people might think we’re dating.”

“Or that we’ve just stepped into –or out of – Normal.”  He saw from her furrowed brows that she didn’t get it.  “It’s okay, just a film.  So how are you?”

“Fine.  Still eating.”  She was wearing that dowdy grey coat again – the one he was sure even his nanna wouldn’t be seen dead in and he wondered, not for the first time, why Sarah hadn’t ever tried to give her any fashion tips.  He had to admit to always being fascinated by Hannah and Sarah’s friendship. It seemed the classic case of the pretty girl who chooses her best mate from the ranks of the plain so as not to overshadow her, except Hannah was, in his opinion, effortlessly pretty, genuinely pretty whereas Sarah was attractive – with the aid of makeup - but owed much of her appeal to her height, her sense of style and general vivaciousness.  He’d seen Hannah without make-up and it hadn’t made him want to go running from the room whereas Craig had confided to him once that the first time he’d seen Sarah without her face on he’d almost screamed in terror.  They’d had a good laugh about it, sharing a variety of horror stories about girls – mostly the sister induced nightmarish kind. But that was back when they were mates, just mates – the ‘good old days’.

“You always say that,” he admonished, giving her shoulder a gentle push.  “I swear that when I ask that question I am not referring to your anorexia.”

She laughed, linked her arms with his.  “I love that we’re mates again, John Paul.”

“Me too.  I missed you.”

“Yeah and I know that we’ve never talked about what happened with Craig...”

“I know – I didn’t think you’d ever want to talk to me again after what I did to Sarah – both of you really.”

“Well it wasn’t easy finding out, but I was in a really bad place then and everything just seemed to wash over me, in a kind of blur.  Plus I was caught in the middle – I did want to hear your side of things but I was angry and upset on Sarah’s behalf.”

“I know.  I don’t blame you.”

“But... it’s been long enough now.  I want to hear your side of things.”

He looked at her, genuinely shocked.  “Really?”

“Yes, really. You’re my friend too and I know you John Paul; I can tell you’re still hurting.  I mean Sarah’s pretty much over Craig, but you’re not, are you?”

“Oh Hannah.”  He felt the emotion welling up and feared he might start blubbing right there in the middle of the street.

“Right. I prescribe a drink in the SUbar.  We’ll bin this afternoon’s lectures.  You’re a bright lad you’ll catch up.  I’ll steal Sarah’s notes.”  She gave a self-deprecating smile.  “Never going to be as bright as you and Craig.”

“No-one’s as bright as Craig.”

“Progress!” She was laughing again.

“What?”

“That is the very first time I’ve heard you say his name in months.”

He looked at her, realising that what she’d said was true.  Was this a good omen?  He was certainly going to take it as such.

**

Hannah had bought the first round.

“So is it stream of consciousness or shall I ask and you answer?  Right then, let’s see... Why did you break up - the real reason.”

“Oh you’re supposed to start with the easy ones, Hannah!”

“And isn’t that an easy one?”

He thought about it.  “No, not really.”

“You’re good at précis, John Paul.  Remember how rubbish I was and you pretty much held my hand and talked me through one?  So come on – in a nutshell.”

“I didn’t think, I didn’t think he was really ready for us.  He said something that made me doubt that he even really wanted to be with me.”

“You serious?  What, what did he say?”

“He told Jake that he wasn’t gay, that he still fancied girls, that I was the only bloke – he didn’t fancy any other blokes, just me, that he was in love with me.”

“And that’s a bad thing?  I’d give my right arm to be that special to someone.”

He stared at her without speaking, surprised by her interpretation.  “But he was saying he wasn’t gay, Hannah.”

“Well maybe he isn’t. He had a few girlfriends before Sarah you know.  Far as I know he never snogged any blokes before you John Paul.  Maybe he’s bisexual.”

“Get you! You been reading Sociology Today or something?”

“Cheeky!  I’m not completely ignorant you know.  I did a bit of research after you came out and Sarah’s pretty up on this stuff...”

“Has she ever talked about...”

“She can’t accept that he might be bisexual, no. Case of okay for other people but not when it’s on my doorstep.  I mean she was all for gay rights and everything, now I think she’s gone a bit the other way.  She’ll get over it though.  She’s getting there.  I think I know where she’s coming from all the same.  You can’t help wondering if it’s something you did –or didn’t do.  When you came out I was absolutely convinced it was my fault – that I put you off so much that you decided to turn to boys instead.”

“Oh Hannah.”  He took her hand, the guilt making him feel weak and a bit nauseous.  If he’d any illusions about being over this...  

“John Paul, if we can’t have a deep, honest conversation without you stopping every five minutes to apologise I think I’ll go back to uni."

“No I can’t have you inflict an afternoon of stats on yourself so okay I promise to keep the apologies to a minimum.”

“Good.  Besides I soon realised that I was being really immature and self-centred too – as though you couldn’t simply be gay and it had nothing to do with me, or anyone else.”

“Yeah, “ he agreed softly.

“So.”  She took a sip of her orange juice. “You helped me grow up a lot John Paul.  I hated when I was going through it but maybe I was too much of a spoiled little princess before, maybe I needed something to make me live in the real world.”

“Anorexia, Hannah?”

She gave him a hard look.  “You didn’t do that, John Paul: I did that and yeah it’s a bloomin pain in the wotsits and everyone’s still treating me with kid gloves like I’ve got cancer or something.  But what this illness has taught me is that I do have control over my own body, my own life – if I choose to use food as a substitute or try to deal with my pain by bingeing then I know I’ve no-one else to blame.  I know what I’m doing – no hiding from it anymore.  And yeah that is a good thing.  There are certain things I need to address in my life and in a funny way the anorexia has made me stronger, more able to cope.”

John Paul pulled her into a hug and held her there as he felt her tearing up.

**

  
John Paul bought the next round.

“Oh you!” she said as she took a sip of her drink.  “I’m not Sarah, I do recognise the taste of alcohol even when it’s drowned in orange juice.”

“I thought it might give you a lift.  I only made her put a drop in – just to give it a bit of a kick.”

“Well,” she said grudgingly. “I suppose it’s okay – quite nice, really.”  She gave him a grin.  “You’re looking gorgeous, do you know that?”

“Steady on, you’ve only had a sip!”

“I am not drunk. I’m saying it cos that’s what mates say – me and Sarah compliment each other like that all the time.  Didn’t you and Craig?”

“Hannah, we’re guys.  We may have been sleeping together, but we’re still guys.”

She made a face.  “He never told you you were gorgeous?”

“Not that I can remember, no.”

“And you never told him either.  Seriously, what did you guys say to each other?  What did you do to show affection, besides the obvious?”

“Well he told me he loved me – a few times - and I said the same-“

“Well yeah that’s nice, but most couples do that – it’s the little things that count, you know?”

“He gave me a watch – had something special inscribed on the back.  His gran gave it to his granddad.”

“Oh that’s lovely, John Paul.  Craig was always a really sweet guy.  Absolutely crazy about you.”

He looked at her.  “Sorry?”

“That’s why Sarah hates you so much; cos she asked him to get back with her and he said he did love her but was in love with you, that you’re the one he wanted to be with.  And when she found out about you and him going to Dublin she begged him to come back to her and he said that he couldn’t lie any more, that you were his choice... John Paul?  John Paul, what is it?”

“He chose me over her?”

“What?  Thought you already knew that.”

“I thought it was because she’d told him it was over, that he’d burned all his bridges.  I wanted him at any cost even if it meant being the second choice, the only alternative now Sarah had ended it.  God.  In the airport he tried to tell me but I just wasn’t listening.  I was so sure that he was only really with me because he needed to be with someone.  Hannah I’ve been such an idiot.  I have got to get him back!”

“Whoa, John Paul. Where are you going?”

“To round up the cattle!”

**

Well Steph Dean wasn’t exactly cattle though she could be a cow at times.  He was so glad she’d moved out of the Dog – this couldn’t have happened if she'd still been living there.

 She seemed surprised, but happy to see him.  “Hey stranger.”

“Hi Steph.  Steph.” He took hold of her hands. If it had been a requirement to perform oral sex on her he would have done that too – so long as Craig never found out!  Not that he didn’t like it.  It had been dark when he’d done it to Hannah and her obvious pleasure had made it good for him too.  He definitely preferred sucking cock though.  “Steph I need Craig’s address.”

“Well, about time!”  She loosened his grip on her hands and went over to her bag.  “He’s been waiting for you to come to your senses.”

“What?”

“I told him you were pining. He, like the soft romantic get he is wanted to come over and whisk you away.  I told him to let you stew for a while like the idiot you are.”  She held a small card to her chest, tried to look stern.  “I may not be in the same league as the McQueens, but we Deans protect our own.  You kids have been sooo brainless.  This.” She handed him the card.  “Is where it stops.  Don’t call, just turn up with the biggest bunch of white roses you can find.”

“Roses?”

“Oh don’t make that face, I know Craig, remember.  He’s the most romantic guy on the planet.  Surprised you don’t know that already. Well I guess you’ll find out for yourself soon enough.  You can’t go wrong – I know you love him and I sure as hell know he loves you.  I have the sore ear to prove it. I’m pretty sure I’ve been muttering ‘yes, Craig, John Paul does too, yes of course he’s okay, no of course he’s not seeing anyone’ in my bloomin’ sleep.  So for the sake of my ear and my disturbed sleep just go and get it right this time!”

He knew he had tears in his eyes, she did too.  “I promise you. And I cannot thank you enough for this.”

“Craig is so in love with you, John Paul and as someone who loves him to death I couldn’t do any less.”  She pulled him into a hug. “Sit down a minute.  You’ll probably need directions and instructions.”  She made her way to the kitchen area.  “I’m just cooking.  You going to stay?”

Craig had regaled him with numerous horror stories about Steph’s kitchen exploits so he really wanted to answer in the negative, but he was walking on cloud nine at the moment so what was a little food poisoning between friends?  
“That sounds fab, thank you.”

  
**

  
He’d debated for a long time whether to buy the roses in Chester or Dublin. He really didn’t want anything to happen to them between the time he bought them and getting to the flat where Craig lived but he didn’t know Dublin at all, had planned on taking a taxi to Craig’s flat and was anxious about something preventing that happening.  So in the end he’d spent a packet on fresh white roses and henceforth moved like he had an explosive parcel in his hand.

The airport brought back some bad memories, but he pushed those down with surprising ease and made his way, heart pounding, on to the waiting plane.

He was nervous as hell but confident too and more than anything determined.  He really didn’t know how Craig would greet him, wouldn’t blame him if he gave John Paul a really hard time of it but none of that mattered – for the first time there were no obstacles between them.  No excuses, no misperceptions.  He was here; his man was here.  Time to round up the cattle...

  
**

  
Craig lived in a small flat in a big house, some distance from the airport.

For all his previous confidence, John Paul felt himself trembling as he paid the driver then turned to look at his destination.

He had a backpack slung over his left shoulder (and maybe that showed overconfidence, what if that turned out to be a deal breaker) and the roses in his right hand and as he looked up at the third floor windows he felt so nervous he was certain he would throw up right then and here.

“Are you alright son?  This is the right place isn’t it?”  The grey haired taxi driver was still waiting, clearly worried about him.

“No, it’s the right place.  Just nervous,” he laughed

“Ah you had a row and trying to make it up to her?” A nod at the roses in his hand.

“Not exactly, just trying to show him how much I love him.”

If he’d expected shock, anger and a subsequent squealing of tires as the car sped away he was in for a surprise.  The driver raised an eyebrow then got out of the car.  John Paul had had enough experience with men intending violence to know that that wasn’t on the cards here.  “Do you want me to ring the bell for you?”

“I-I-“

“Tell you what, you tell me what doorbell to ring and I’ll tell him there’s a parcel and should I come up? He’ll open the front door and be waiting for you upstairs I shouldn’t wonder.  How does that sound?”

“It sounds wonderful. Thank you so much.”

“Ah no bother – you looked like you were going to keel over, so you did.  Okay.  So I’ll just be ringing that bell then.”

John Paul followed close behind, still nervous, but excited now, his heart doing a loud tap tapping in his chest.

“Parcel for you.  Will I bring it up or-?  He’s pressed the buzzer.” He looked at John Paul.  “He doesn’t sound like you – a cockney, is it?”

John Paul laughed.  “Well he’s from London but I don’t think he considers himself a cockney. But honestly, thank you very much-“

“John – Johnno to me friends.” They shook hands.  “You make that count you hear?” There was a sadness in the man that John Paul only just now recognised.

“I promise you.”

“Well, good then.”  He reached into his pocket and handed him a taxi card.  “Ask for me okay?  When you’re in need of a cab.”

“I will.  Thanks again.  Bye.”

He watched Johnno to his car then stiffened his shoulders and walked through the door, carefully closing it behind him.

A few flights and there he’d be: face to face with his man, the love of his life...

Craig’s flat door was open as he stepped on the landing, the sound of his voice from inside causing John Paul’s heart to beat so hard and so fast that he had to hold on to the wall for a minute.  “Do I need to sign for it?”

John Paul didn’t say anything just stood there staring at the open door.  Craig was pulling a white t-shirt over his head as he made his way to the door.  “I wasn’t expecting.... John Paul.”  He looked the way John Paul was feeling, only more so. For a moment he looked like he’d gone weak at the knees, was about to fall and John Paul instinctively reached out to him, caught him, somehow pushed him against the wall.... And then they were kissing.  He didn’t think it had ever been quite like this before. It was as though all the emotion that they’d been holding back, even when they’d been together was ready to come out now – the dam had broken and there was about to be a flood.

The roses he’d practically been prepared to guard with his life were forgotten, crushed under Craig’s head as John Paul held him against the wall.

“God, John, John.” Craig’s hands were all over him – in his hair, nails against the delicate skin of his back, creating an arousal so fierce, so immediate that he kicked the door shut and picked him up, held him up as he fed from him, marking him, eating him alive.

His lover was barefoot and that was good - less to take off.  He licked his way into Craig’s mouth, then held him there while he tongue fucked him, drinking in his moans, his other hand – the roses were on the floor somewhere by now – pushing up the t-shirt, reaching for Craig’s ultra sensitive nipples, bending his head to them now, worshipping them.  Craig’s legs wrapped around his back as he pulled him off the wall, carried him, grinning up into his face.  “Please tell me you’ve got a double.”

“I have a double.  Takes up the entire room mind, but I have a double.  And have you been working out?”

“You want to test my stamina?”  He navigated his way by instinct to the bedroom.  Craig was right, the bed did take up the entire room, but at long last they’d be able to sleep together, fuck around on a bed bigger than a postage stamp.  “Cos I can go all night if you want me to.”

“Oh I want you to,” he said in that bedroom voice he kept for those special occasions.  It was what John Paul called his blowjob voice and it wasn’t getting old any time soon – the effect it had on John Paul’s cock.

“Well first I’m going to undress you.”  He laid him gently on the bed, started unbuttoning his jeans, pulled his t-shirt off before finally pulling off the jeans, leaving Craig in black boxers.  His big cock was tenting the fabric in the way that never failed to make John hard as a rock.  For a slight guy Craig had the biggest cock John Paul had yet encountered.  They’d joked that Craig’s cock – seeing it when they’d showered after footy –had turned him gay and he couldn’t unequivocally say otherwise.  He’d certainly noticed the splendour of the cock even before he realised hat he was attracted to Craig.  “I see you’re still eating your spinach.”

“Luckily for you I haven’t been – I don’t think you’d like what it’d do to my come.”

“Talk dirty why don’t you!  You know what that does to me.”

“Well with all those clothes on I’m having to guess.  Come on John Paul, give me a treat.” The blowjob voice again.

“I have no idea how I’m not all over you.  I’m really only holding on – by a thread.”

“You’re trembling.”

“You’ve always done that to me - no matter how many times.  I still tremble when I see you.”

“So show me then, show me what I do to you.”  His tongue was in John’s Paul’s mouth, flicking and flickering in the way that simply never failed to make his cock wet.

He knew that there were no words left in him – he was no longer capable of forming a thought outside: want him! want him! – so words were certainly off the menu just now.  

He stripped without artifice, throwing his clothes off carelessly, aware of Craig’s eyes on him, the naked cock twitching against Craig’s flat belly. “Hold it,” he demanded. “Hold it for me.”  Craig did as he asked, eyes soft with arousal, staring at John Paul’s mouth.  “You know what I want.”  He made himself comfortable between Craig’s legs, both of them adjusting their position knowing that this was something that would last for a while – they’d make it last.

John Paul covered Craig’s cock with his mouth, moving as slowly as he could, tongue flickering against the veins in the way they both loved, opening up his throat until his lips touched Craig’s fist.

“God, John.  Yeah.”

He did it again, adjusting his speed whenever Craig’s breathy moans changed, losing himself in the feeling, the joy of being so close, so in sync with his lover until Craig pulled at his shoulder, asking him to stop.

He gave the head a final lick, drawing a hiss from Craig then moved up and kissed him, ending up under Craig, head back, tongue dipping slowly in and out of his lover’s mouth.  His hands were on Craig’s suprisingly muscular arse, adjusting him, getting him where he wanted him, lining up their cocks for the duel that neither man wanted to win.

Craig had his eyes closed, thighs and arse flexing and John Paul stared up at him so aroused, so incredibly aroused by the line of this man’s throat, the hard nipples, the flat belly, the incredible cock.  He wasn’t going to last long and from the look of it neither was Craig whose eyes had opened and were staring into his.  John Paul came abruptly, throwing back his head and howling like a dog in heat. His nails dug hard into Craig’s arse and this was enough – he came too with a long keening moan.

**

  
“No, you.”  

“But I travelled all the way from another country.”

“And I was up all night studying.”

“Oh and you think that trumps my excuse?”

“No, but would you anyway? Please.”

“Oh put that away, Dean.  That might work on old ladies, but it will never work on me.”

“Pretty please?”  He kissed john Paul’s ear.  “With a chocolate fairy on top?”

“A what?”

“John Paul were you always this difficult to get around?”

“I’m still not – you just need to find the right...bribe.”

“You do know that we’ve been at it for 4 hours don’t you?

“And 12 minutes.”

“Joker!”

He turned to Craig and kissed him deeply.  “I shouldn’t tell you this but any bribe is the right bribe – and the worse thing is you don’t even need a bribe.  You just need to ask in that certain voice and I’d have your fucking babies.”

“I don’t know how to break this to you John Paul- Ow get off, get off!”

“I’ll tickle and tickle until you’re a limp rag.”

“I give in. I give in!”

They lay together, John Paul in Craig’s arms, and listened to the sound of the city both going to bed and coming to life.

“It’s nice here,” John Paul observed.

“Dublin?”

“Well I meant your flat – where you’re living. It certainly isn’t a hovel.”

“No.” He stroked the fine hairs on John Paul’s arm.  “Any keener to share it with me?”

“What do you think?”

“That you’ve had a change of heart?”

“I got it wrong, Craig-“

“So did I – we both made mistakes.  I sometimes think we were just so afraid of somehow having it all snatched from us that we didn’t give ourselves enough time to work it all out.”

“We’ve had time now – have we, worked it all out?”

“Do you mean am I still saying I’m not gay?”

“About that, Craig-“

“I shouldn’t have been so stupid in the airport.  I should have kissed you.”

“I shouldn’t have asked you to.  That’s not what relationship – partnership – is about, is it?  You were uncomfortable and I shouldn’t have exposed you like that.  Do you know something really weird?  I don’t think now that I would be comfortable kissing in the airport the way that couple was.  I don’t even think I want to be the way you and Sarah were.  I was so intent on proving a point, on feeling sidelined and oppressed that I wasn’t really thinking straight.  When I was with Spike we kissed and hugged because he didn’t know any other way to be. And in the village it was okay – everyone knew I was gay – no big deal.  But when we went into town and he did it then I wasn’t as comfortable.  I certainly wouldn’t have been that comfortable doing it in front of my mum.  So I’m not really as out and proud as you think. All I know is that I want us to always be honest with each other.  Doesn’t matter about the outside world so long as we’re solid.”

Craig didn’t say anything, just reached a hand into John Paul’s hair and began a sensuous massage.

John Paul felt his eyes closing and a moment later he became aware of a warm cloth being gently, lovingly applied to his stomach and genitals, then the breath of a kiss ghosting across his lips.

That night he dreamed of rounding up cattle.  With his man...


End file.
